Dynamic People, Dynamic Archives

Koritha Mitchell (center) with Jarvis C. McInnis, Frederick Knight, and Scott Heath

Photograph by A. H. Jerriod Avant © 2014

The 2014 Callaloo Conference began on a particularly resonant note for me because opening night featured a dramatic reading by playwright Ifa Bayeza from her unique work The Ballad of Emmett Till. The gathering therefore began not only with performance but also a performance that prioritizes community-centered truths about racial violence. In short, the conference opened by addressing my abiding interest in the power of both violence and performance.

What is most striking about Bayeza’s dramatic piece is that it centers Emmett Till himself. We see Till as a student whose teacher encourages him to talk less, as a son who asks for permission to travel, as a popular boy who enjoys choosing his own clothes and shoes. The Ballad of Emmett Till therefore accomplishes what few works attempt. As historian Chana Kai Lee noted, Till has inspired more than 140 creative treatments, but most center on his death or his mother’s experiences. In contrast, this work is more in line with the achievements of lynching plays written in the 1910s and 1920s, while mobs presented a more palpable threat to Black families and communities. Like those dramas, Bayeza’s preserves evidence of Black life, not just death. In so doing, Bayeza’s text extends the tradition of early lynching plays, such as Angelina Weld Grimké’s Rachel, Alice Dunbar-Nelson’s Mine Eyes Have Seen, and Georgia Douglas Johnson’s Safe as well as James Baldwin’s Blues for Mister Charlie and the recent movie Fruitvale Station.¹ All of these powerful works presume that drama can reside in much more than Black death and the spectacular injustices that so often attend it. The stories of African-descended people cannot be understood without attention to the injustices faced, but truly comprehending the implications of Black death requires an appreciation for the quality of Black life.

Every imaginable blow has been dealt to Black families and communities, yet the beauty of Black life endures. As Ravi Howard noted, Bayeza’s work engages this complex reality. Howard highlighted Bayeza’s pronounced use of silence, which is both visible on the page and noticeable in performance. For Howard, it served as a reminder that silence was often a mandate for Blacks in Mississippi. Quiet therefore often signified violence. In that context, Howard explained, Bayeza’s creative use of Till’s stuttering and whistling added to the life-affirming spirit both of the text we read and the performance-text we witnessed.

Besides resonating with my most enduring interests, this year’s conference reminded me of the intensity and consistency with which Callaloo’s founding editor, Charles Rowell, embraces the role of facilitator. He facilitates the preservation of the culture. He facilitates our awareness of the shoulders on which we stand. He facilitates our connection to those currently working in a wide range of fields and venues to keep Black culture vibrant. Most obviously, Rowell preserves the cultural production of the African Diaspora in the pages of Callaloo and insists upon doing so in the broadest terms. In this way, his labor reminds one of Arthur Schomburg and those who have taken up his mantel, such as Howard Dodson, who joined us this year to give a keynote address. Not only has the journal long given serious attention to work produced outside the United States, but it has also always placed creative and critical pieces in direct conversation. More than this, as Brent Edwards has noted, because Rowell has always prioritized interviewing those who contribute to the rich culture he preserves, Callaloo has become a repository like none other.² And, as many writers and critics happily admit, he has often been the first to recognize the value of their contributions. As she welcomed us to Emory University, Natasha Trethewey, two-term United States Poet Laureate, shared that it was Rowell who appreciated her poetry long before others readily did so. Rita Dove and many other creative writers have...